


The Outcasts

by TheOfficialKai517



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies), Tangled (2010), Tangled: The Series (Cartoon)
Genre: As In Spoilers for Tangled Season 2, F/M, Isle of the Lost (Disney), Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-01-14 14:33:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18478210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOfficialKai517/pseuds/TheOfficialKai517
Summary: Trystan Elyzabeth Vatter has spent her whole life on the Isle of the Lost. But she has questions that only her parents can answer.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I started this one; I just did.  
> I suppose I felt that it'd be fun to do this, especially considering the fact that I need to cool down after watching the season two finale of "Tangled: the Series."

Even among the citizens of the Isle, my family was... Different. Meaning that, by default,  _I_ was different.

There were many things that made us different. For one, there was the fact that we were a  _family._ Not many people on the Isle had that. My parents had been married for some time before the Isle was implemented, and I was born mere  _days_ before they were forced to move there. In fact, I may have been the last child living here who was born outside of the stupid dome that kept us trapped here.

I have siblings. Four of them. They are all younger than I am, which is also odd: why would anyone want to have children  _here_? But, I suppose, they had no other choice.

Two brothers. Two sisters. Mom and Dad.

Both of my parents have at least  _some_ blue in their hair. My dad has a single streak of blue in his jet-black hair, whereas my mom has frizzy hair that's completely blue. Dad says she used to have hair the same color as a chalkboard, but Mom never says anything about it. So... It could be true. Or it could be complete crap. I wouldn't know.

They have blue eyes, too, though his are wider and more alive-seeming than hers are. Dad also says that her eyes used to be a hazel-like color. Again, he could be telling the truth. Or he could be lying to me. Take your pick.

My father is an inquisitive man. I can tell that much, though he doesn't like to open up about himself all the time. I know very little about his past. Just vague stories leading up to his reunion with Mom-- I don't even know how they were separated in the first place; he's that secretive when it comes to things that happened back in the Corona sector of Auradon-- and then a few clearer tales, leading up to me. And the Isle.

Even then, he still opens up far more than Mom does... About  _anything_.

I knew absolutely  _nothing_ about her life back in Corona... Every so often, whenever I'm alone and have nothing to do-- which, surprisingly, isn't very often-- I will sit back and try imagining what she was like  _before._ Before the Isle. Before me. Before marriage. Maybe even before Dad himself. I try to envision what she had done to land herself  _here_. But I never have any solid facts. It's all very hush-hush.

And, being like my father (in the sense that I tend to have a thirst for knowledge), it drives me absolutely nuts. I  _need to know._ But nobody has told me anything.

They say that everyone is put on the Isle for a reason. Cruella de Vil tried to make a fur coat out of puppies. Both Maleficent and the Evil Queen tried to kill innocent young princesses. Gaston attempted to kill the future king of Auradon  _just_ so that he could 'get the girl.'

But, despite the fact that I could run down the list of all the 'villains' living on the Isle and tell you exactly  _what_ they did to end up here, I can guarantee you the fact that I couldn't tell you the same details about my own family.

Yes, Mom can be intimidating-- the fact that she's just as fit and buff as just about any other person is enough to scare the crap out of nearly anyone, even here on the Isle where it's 'every man for himself'-- but she seems to be a good enough person. Like, if she cares for you enough, she wouldn't let  _anything_ happen to you.

Something similar goes for Dad. He's the exact opposite of her by ways of physical looks, and I'm not just saying that because he's a man whereas she's not.

He's skinny. Mom sometimes jokes that she married a noodle, considering how small and skinny he is.

But he's  _nice._ People find him annoying at times, sure, but that doesn't necessarily make him a  _bad guy_... Right?

Questions like these have haunted me for years now. Ever since I found out just  _why_ we were where we were, I had questions about  _why_ my parents were there. And, by relation, why I was there. Why Jax and Journey and Elli and Byron were there.

And, thus far, I have not found any answers.


	2. Chapter Two

Dad has this lab. It's full of chemicals and solutions and papers, among many other things. I highly suspect that there are a few things in there that either Mom or one of us kids 'lost' many years ago hidden among the cluttered piles of crap he kept in there.

The lab is technically in our basement, even though there is a door that leads to the lab from outside. Our home is kind of built into a hill, one of the very few hills here on the Isle.

One time, when I was younger, I asked Dad why our lab was in the basement. We had plenty of space upstairs, I argued, why not use that so that he didn't have to go down there?

Basements freaked me out, but I loved to visit my father in his lab. There was just no winning with that situation.

But Dad told me that it reminded him of his home back in Corona, back before he met Mom. Before they were forced onto the Isle...

I knew better than to focus all of my attention on that small, flickering fact. It was the smallest possible clue he could've given me about his past life.

But it was _something_ , I suppose.

Dad hardly ever let anyone into his lab. Just me and Mom.

Jax, Journey, Elli, and Byron hardly ever got to come in, and that seemed just fine to me. I enjoyed my 'alone time' with Dad.

This time, though, when I visited his lab, things seemed a little... Different.

* * *

I walked in to find Dad pouring sand into the giant metal machine that had been sitting in the corner for most of my life, gathering dust and cobwebs. I pulled on my safety goggles-- a handmade gift that he had given me for my sixth birthday, when he first started allowing me to join him inside the lab-- and trekked through the mess.

Dad seemed to be laser-focused on his work. At least, he hardly even looked up at me when I entered the room.

"Hey, Dad," I said, hoping that I wouldn't startle him, "what are you working on?"

I could see a small smile make its way across his face, and I could tell that his concentration was slowly starting to break, and in an okay way. There were times where his concentration broke super-fast, and he would accidentally dump a bunch of whatever it was he was working with into whatever else it was that he was working with and  _BOOM!_ Big explosion. Angry neighbors.

And nobody would be happy for the next few hours, at the very least.

It was better this way, where it was kind of like he dipped his toes in the water of reality before breaking his concentration fully.

After a minute or two of me just standing there, waiting for Dad to fully come back to me, he finally did. His smile was now full-fledged, and he proudly held up a small indigo-colored stone.

"What's that?"

It looked familiar. But I just couldn't seem to put my finger on what it was. Not at the moment, at least.

"Cassandrium," he said, pride lacing every syllable of the word, "it's an element I created when I was... I think I was Elli's age."

"Cassandrium," I repeat, the word somehow flowing right off my tongue, "named after Mom?"

Dad's smile told me all I needed to know. Except... It didn't. I still had questions about their past.

And... Maybe now was the time to ask them. Or, at the very least, ask  _one_ of them.

"Hey, Dad?"

"Yeah, Trys?"

I take a deep breath in. "Could you tell me the story? Of you and Mom? Or, at least..."

He chuckled a little, setting down the small stone and taking a seat on the worn wooden stool next to the lab table. I took a seat on the stool across from him.

And he began to tell me. He began to tell me about how he met Mom. How he had toiled for hours and hours to find the perfect invention to show off at a Science Exposition in Corona-- he lived outside of Corona, apparently, in a small village which was given the very original name of 'Old Corona'-- and how his old raccoon friend, Ruddiger, had helped him in the accidental discovery of 'Cassandrium.' How he knew that it was the perfect thing to bring to the kingdom.

How, at the Expo, he had been able to bond with Mom, helping her with her chores ( _chores,_ of all things!) so that she could go on guard duty... So she could do what  _she_ wanted to do.

How he showed off the new element and received high praise for it until his idiot assistant-- it was  _supposed_ to be Mom helping him, but she had taken on more rigorous guard duties that day-- ruined it for him.

He finished off that story, and I could tell by the small, sad smile that was on his face that, for some reason, he  _missed_ that time.

I couldn't understand why-- was it because he was free of this stupid domed island back then? Or because he was young and had his first crush? Or could it be some other reason, one that he doesn't want to share with me?-- but I reached out and took his hand in mine anyways.

"I hate it here," he admitted, "you may not realize this, having lived here all of your life, but... Life was so much better over there."

I didn't know what to say to that. Dad was being open with me for  _once,_ and I had no clue how to respond to what he was telling me.

"I understand  _why_ we're here, of course," he added quickly, "but simply understanding something doesn't make someone enjoy it."

I nodded a little. There were many things that I enjoyed but didn't understand, and vice versa. And then I took another deep breath in.

"How  _did_ you and Mom end up here?"

A cloud seemed to pass over my father's face. "I can't tell you that, Trystan."

"Why not?"

He didn't answer. He didn't say anything. Instead, he picked up another bag of sand and began working on making his element once more.

I didn't need words to know that he didn't want me there any longer. So I left, more curious than I was before.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it'd be kinda fun to just... Go back to the day when Cass and Varian were forced onto the Isle.  
> And by fun, I mean 'interesting.' 'Cause... It might not be fun.

**Sixteen Years Ago**

* * *

_There was a loud wail. Varian looked at Cassandra, who was frowning deeply. Trouble was coming their way, and they both knew it. Even Trystan-- who was not normally prone to crying and wailing; all loudness seemed to disturb the young girl deeply for some reason-- seemed to sense the fact that something was amiss._

_"I'll get Trys," Varian said softly, though he had absolutely no desire to leave his wife vulnerable to anything that may come while he was in their daughter's room, "you..."_

_"I'll keep guard."_

_Varian's lips quirked up in a slight smile. That was the Cass he knew and loved: always willing to protect and defend, especially when it came to her loved ones. But he didn't have the time to comment on that... Or anything, for that matter._

_Something was going down, and whatever it was definitely not going to wait for them._

_So, with a brief nod in Cass's direction, Varian turned on his heel and made his way into the small nursery that they had set up only months prior in anticipation of the arrival of their little baby girl. (Not that they had anyway of knowing that Trystan would be a little girl, of course; the room was painted a pastel yellow and decorated as gender-neutrally as they could possibly have made it). When he entered the room, his eyes immediately fell on Trystan and his heart seemed to break into thousands of small pieces._

_She didn't deserve this._

_She wasn't even a week old yet, and now... Whatever fate was about to befall himself and Cassandra, Varian knew would somehow ensnare sweet, innocent Trystan._

_Three days_ _old,_ _he reminded himself over and over, she's only three days old..._

_But nothing could bring him any calm._

_It was all his fault._

_Perhaps, if he hadn't been so careless and reckless all those years ago, blinded by hatred and anger... Maybe then, he wouldn't have to deal with the demons of his past seven years later. Maybe then his little girl wouldn't have to suffer the consequences of things that had been done long ago, far too long ago for her to even realize what had happened... How it would affect her._

_ Enough of that, Varian.  
_

_He had to force himself to move across the room, over towards the crying girl in the bassinet. He reached down and took her in his arms, though it felt much more different than any other time he had held her before. Any other day, he loved holding her. He loved getting to look down at her and marvel over the fact that, somehow, he had helped to create this beautiful, precious little life that he held in his arms._

_But now the feelings weren't there. Not the normal ones, anyways. They were instead replaced by dread and regret, and self-loathing. Why had he been so stupid?!_

_Even when she was in her father's arms, though, Trystan didn't calm down. Not at all. She kept on wailing and crying, squirming around as if she was going to try escaping him._

_Varian's heart broke even more for her, and he gently bounced her in his arms as he moved into the front rooms of the home that he had shared with Cass for the past two or three years now. The home that, somewhere deep in his heart, he knew would someday be lost to the elements. That would be something that would happen almost as soon as he and Cass weren't there any longer... Something he feared would come sooner rather than later._

_At least for him._

_When he came into the entryway, though, he froze. There were guards standing there on the other side of the doorway, and one of them was already at work putting handcuffs onto Cassandra's wrists._

_"What... What's going on here?"_

_The words had hardly come out of his mouth before he realized: it was finished. That big project that the kingdom of Auradon had been working on for the past year or so, not long after he and Cassandra had gotten married... The Isle of the Lost was now complete. All it needed was citizens._ _Citizens like himself._

_Though why they were taking Cass, he had no idea. Perhaps they feared that, having spent a lot of time with a known 'villain,' Cass herself had changed her tune. Or maybe... Maybe something else lurked beneath her surface, though he refused to acknowledge any such thing. Cass wasn't an angel-- nobody was, after all-- but she was the closest thing that Varian had. She was his definition of 'perfect.'_

_Cass looked up at the sound of his voice, and instantly, there were tears in her eyes. She mouthed something to him, though he couldn't quite understand why she 'said' what she had 'said.'_

_I'm_ _sorry._

_What was going on?_

_Just then, the other guards moved around Cass and made his way to Varian._

_One of them spoke softly to Varian. "It'll be a lot easier if you don't struggle."_

_Things had never been easy for Varian, so why the guard tried to advise him as to how things could be made easier in this situation, he had absolutely no clue. But either way, he didn't put up a fight as the guard's companion took his daughter out of his arms and instructed him to put his arms behind his back, putting handcuffs on them, too._

_And then he and Cass were escorted out to a strange-looking vehicle-- he knew what a car was, of course, but the technology for them had hardly spread past Auradon; Corona was trapped in an era of horse-and-buggy and walking-- and rudely pushed into the back. The one man handed Trystan to the guard who had cuffed Varian, who climbed into the passenger seat. The guard who had cuffed Cass climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine._

_Varian exchanged a worried glance with Cassandra-- what was going on?!\-- but she didn't reply. Instead, she sat there in silence, letting the tears flow._

_Why did she look as if she somehow felt the same way that he did... Guilty beyond redemption?_

_If he hadn't been cuffed up earlier, he would have taken the opportunity to reach out and wrap his wife in his arms, holding her close to him, offering what little comfort he could give. But he didn't have that chance._

_Instead, all he could do was stare out the back window as the home that he had come to know and love faded out of sight..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This kind of hints at the idea that Varian DOESN'T know what happened with Cass at the end of season two... That's gonna be interesting to write, too.
> 
>  
> 
> Why do I torture myself so?


End file.
